Saving Olivia
by fiesa
Summary: After everything she had been through, after all those hardships she had encountered and survived. But this was killing her. One Shot.


_Hah. Finally, a computer and a USB-Stick and Internet! After two long, hard weeks... Or rather, three. I hope you enjoy the story^^ Seeing that the last One Shot I posted was quite depressing, I decided to post a nice, funny one this time. Or something which, in my opinion, is funny..._

_Disclaimer: I don´t own Fringe. Duh. No copyrightin**Fringe**ment intended._

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Saving Liv

_She would be dying here._

It was stupid – after all she had been through, after all the things she had survived – she would meet her end here, in her own bed, in her own apartment. She would die here, with no-one around her, _alone_. All by herself.

Her head hurt terribly. The constant pain throbbing down her spine was enough for her to close her eyes and wish there was something she could distract herself with – something, _anything_, anyone. She had phoned Broyles – he had told her to get better first before he would allow her into the next case. She had phoned Rachel – she had told her she had to work and she should take care of herself, get better quickly. She had thought of calling Peter but then it seemed idiotic to her – after all, she was only down with flu. But it was a _very bad flu_, and she would be dying of boredom if nothing happened on which she could focus her mind on. She needed to distract herself from the pain in the back of her head, from the weakness she felt in her limbs and from the fever cursing through her body. But nobody seemed to understand she would get better a lot quicker if she had something to do, so she lay in her bed and stared at the ceiling. Today was the second day.

She tried falling asleep. Her inner voice laughed at the futile attempt.

She tried counting sheep. After 3,478 she gave up because the sheep started running in all directions and her headache made it difficult to keep track of them.

She tried reading a book. She ended up wondering how people in novels could be so perfectly normal – why the only worry they seemed to have was getting a boyfriend and finding utterly unimaginative killers. Her life was so much more _realistic_.

She tried going into the kitchen, firmly wanting to eat something. Alone the smell of coffee made her feel sick again and she staggered back, only taking some water and a piece of bread.

The ring of the doorbell almost made her laugh out loud in happiness.

_Distraction._

Even if it was just in form of a mail man.

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It wasn´t the mail man. It wasn´t even a door-to-door salesman she could possibly have argued with. It was Peter Bishop, standing on her door mat, grinning at her widely.

"Hi."

That was better. Much better. Was it? She was wearing a T-Shirt, shorts and something close to a bath robe. She looked like hell.

"You look like hell." His grin widened. She blushed.

"Thanks. What are you doing here?"

Peter shrugged and brushed past her through the open door. She closed it behind him and followed him into her living room. He settled on the sofa, placing a brown, thick file on the low table.

"I thought you could need a little distraction", he said. Olivia blushed even harder. It was exactly what she had been thinking – but hearing it from his lips made it sound childish.

"So you came here to do what?"

Was it hostility or irony in her voice? Even she couldn´t distinguish. Peter winked at her. Apparently, he could.

"Don´t worry. Astrid is taking care of Walter and I made sure no federal agent was following me when I drove over. Broyles won´t ever know."

"Great", she said, and this time it definitely was sarcasm. And a hint of relief.

"I know you, Liv", Peter continued and opened the file before him. "You won´t get better unless you have something to do. Seeing that those last two days have been quite… difficult without you, I´m going to do anything to get you back to work as soon as possible. So get down here and look at this and tell me what to do next."

Carefully, she slid onto the sofa next to him and eyed the file.

"What has been so difficult during my absence?"

Peter sighted. "Walter. He noticed something was wrong – perhaps someone was missing – and he is behaving really difficult. So as his son and a good citizen of the United States" – Liv snorted, which he ignored, his eyes sparkling – "It is my duty to get you back to _yours_ – defend the world from Walter Bishop´s experiments."

Liv laughed. Her head still hurt, but it seemed to have gotten better abruptly from the moment he had entered her house.

"Okay. You´re a live-saver, Peter."

"Oh, I know", he said modestly, grabbed the blanket that was lying on the side arm of the sofa and shoved it at her.

"I´m a hero. So solve this case please, quickly, so I can tell Broyles I figured it out all by myself. And it would be a nice side effect if you would get well in the process. Walter´s driving me insane. The world is collapsing. I don´t know what to do."

His eyes sparkled. She sighted. She felt better already. _Much_ better. Having him by her side, studying a case file, made everything that had been wrong fall back to its place.

"Of course. Saving the world is my job."

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_Okay... So what do you think?_


End file.
